As a pleasing contrast to the story I have just related, I have now to record an instance of woman’s fidelity and presence of mind when brought face to face with danger to those she loved. A man, his wife, and child resided in Newton, a quarter of the camp, at one time at least, as thickly studded with swell I. D. B.’s “as the autumnal leaves that strew the brooks in Vallambrosa.” The husband was, not without reason, suspected of being what was euphemistically known as “in the trade.” So the detectives came to his house again and yet again, they emptied the sugar pots, they stuck their fingers in the pomatum, the pepper-boxes were turned topsy-turvy, making catarrh as universal in the house as cholera round Mecca; potatoes preparing for the diurnal tiffin were carefully diagnosed as to their diamondiferous capabilities, in fact Newton, the philosopher, suffered less from the incendiary propensities of his lap-dog than did Newton, the locality, from the “minions of the law.” On one occasion when these gentlemen put in an appearance, a diamond of a large size was lying in the reticule of Mrs. —— upon the table. When about to rise and remove it, she was ordered by the officers to remain seated, whereupon she asked permission to send for a bottle of stout, a request at once acceded to. Hastily scribbling the words “Send bottle stout; keep bag till I come,” she rose and nonchalantly handed the message and reticule containing the diamond to her child, who toddled off to a neighboring canteen, where, as the mother knew, her husband was almost certain to be found. He, smelling a rat, made away with the stone, and the detectives very soon after left the house, baffled in their search, never dreaming of how they had been overreached. This woman’s presence of mind no doubt saved her husband many years in jail. Though then notoriously “in the swim” they are now, having seen the error of their ways, earning an honest livelihood down Colony, and I am told often exhibit that “charity” which we are taught “covers a multitude of sins.” In the case I will now mention Nemesis overtakes well-nigh all parties concerned. About August, 188—, an individual over whose head was hanging a charge, not, however, connected with the diamond ordinance, determined to diminish his household expenses by sending his wife to Europe in charge of the proceeds of certain little private speculations which, it is needless for me to say, are never entered in the books of any mercantile firm. After selling off, he took apartments for his wife and another lady at a somewhat pretentious looking hotel in Kimberley. All was going merrily as marriage bells are popularly supposed to do, the voyage was anticipated with eager delight, and a visit to an old friend in Hatton Garden was expected to prove highly remunerative; but “l’homme propose et Dieu dispose.”